


당신을 사랑해요 (i love you)

by masqurade



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: AUs.... all the AUs...., F/M, Fluff, Hurt, and alternate universes, and small death of major character but not really???, bday gift for my best friend, ending is canon so i guess the rest is AUs though haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 19:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12196179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masqurade/pseuds/masqurade
Summary: Death, it seems, has another dire engagement, since Silas is still alive. Alive — but bleeding, staining the snow surrounding him dark red.





	당신을 사랑해요 (i love you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RivalSilver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivalSilver/gifts).



> Stella (@RivalSilver), sometimes I let myself wonder what life would have been like if I had never commented on your twinleaf fics. It’s a scary thought, but when I look at how far our friendship has come since that day, I like to think that even without twinleaf and writing to tie us together — we would have found each other (whether it be through Farah, similar tastes in fandoms, etc.). So, **_through all parallel universes and odds_** , I am so happy, proud, and _honored_ to have you as one of my best friends. And I’m sorry this is so late but:
> 
>  
> 
> _Happy Birthday._
> 
>  
> 
>  **NOTE:** “♫” means there is a musical piece that goes along with the section. There is one at the end of every poetic AU description, so feel free to get into the mood of the written work.

* * *

 

**_In the winter snow,_ **

**_Dressed in gold,_ **

**_I will be your keeper._ **

♫ ( _Kiss the Rain_ by Yiruma)

 

★

 

 Death, it seems, has another dire engagement, since Silas is still alive. Alive — but bleeding, staining the snow surrounding him dark red. The slow snowfall kisses his face as Silas closes his eyes, wiping away the image of the grey skies before him. His body grows numb with every passing second as he lays there waiting.

 A strong tug against the deep corners of his mind keeps him from slipping into the land from which the ghosts of his family and friends await him. It’s distracting enough that Silas mentally wanders in his mind, trying to find the source of the reassuring warmth flowing through his veins (and even bringing some feeling back into his immobilized body).

 A voice whispers to him from within his scrambling mess of thoughts, coming somewhere far away.

  _‘Although you are handsome when you are asleep, I’d prefer to see the eyes of my rescuer before Death whisks you away and I never get the chance.’_

 When Silas opens his eyes, he draws in a shaky breath, feeling disorientated by the odd thought echoing in his head. His vision is blurred, and it takes him some time before he realizes there is someone sitting beside him.

 This person — no, Silas corrects himself immediately upon seeing the breastplate of her golden armor — this _woman_ is the only thing that he can see with bright clarity. Her long, gray hair is beautiful, flowing across her back, and he fights the urge to reach out and comb his fingers through it.

 It’s her ears, though, that makes Silas realize that the woman isn’t human at all. They are pointed, and he stares at the angular shape of them, finding himself completely captivated. She tilts her head, causing him to begin gazing into her deep red eyes.

  _She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen._

 The sudden thought startles him, but Silas isn’t at all frightened. And when the woman reaches out for him, looking beautifully immortal and hesitant, Silas only continues to stare and surprises himself by leaning his head toward her hand. He relishes in the feeling of her warm touch against his chilled skin. Their eyes never leaving each others, Silas watching as she draws in a breath, as if trying to relax herself.

 “You are at the end of your life, human,” the woman says.

 “Yes,” Silas finds himself agreeing. His voice comes out hoarse, his words a whisper in the wind. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

 A small chuckle escapes him, but it sounds like a single release of breath. The humor dies as quick as it comes, and the woman’s hand starts to travel to his hair before beginning to run her fingers through it gently.

 The gesture seems so familiar that Silas squints at the woman, trying to place her. “Do I know you?”

 “No, but I know you.” There is a pause in her movements that don’t continue until she speaks again. “My name is Corrin.”

 The name itself doesn’t trigger anything, but Silas automatically thinks of arrows and men in hunting leathers.

 “Your wounds are fatal. There is no saving you.” Her words are like ice, and Silas can see — can almost _feel_ — the fiery rage burning in her eyes. “Those hunters know no honor.”

 “Hunters?” Silas mumbles, more to himself than to the woman beside him.

 Then, the fog in his mind starts to dissipate, and he slowly begins to remember _why_ he’s here, bleeding out in the snow at the bottom of an overhanging cliff. The memories blind him as a sudden pain shoots up his spine, and Silas is grinding his teeth and groaning in agony.

  _The hunters want revenge. Silas can see it in their eyes, so wild and outraged. He doesn’t take a step back out of fear, but it does so in an attempt to keep the distance even, keeping himself out of the reach of their long swords._

_“You interrupted our kill the other day, Silas,” the leader — the one that has taken Silas’s place since the murder — spits at him. The others nod, growling their agreement. They are hungry, the entire village is hungry, hell, even Silas knows that he’s also on the brink of starvation — but that knowledge doesn’t cause him to falter._

_“We have an agreement with the Fae.” Silas takes another cautious step back, hand immediately going to grip the hilt of his sword as the hunters begin to surround them, boxing him in. “It is not their fault that the plague has wiped out our livestock, and that we are unpracticed in the ways of old-fashioned hunting. You know better than I do what would have happened if I had let you go through with your little scheme. Hunger would have been the least of our worries.”_

_“You murdered one of our brothers. You chose the immortals instead of your own kind,” another hunter hisses. “The punishment should be death.”_

_Shaking his head in disbelief, Silas relaxes his stance and laughs. “You are all fools, and you will die before the next harvest season.”_

_The leader steps forward so quickly that Silas doesn’t have time to react before the hunter is grabbing him by the front of his hunting leathers with a sword at his throat. “Too bad you won’t be sticking around for us to prove your stupid prediction wrong.”_

 And then he had fallen off the cliff with the sword of one of his tribe brothers embedded in his chest.

_‘Do you despise them for it?’_

 The voice brings Silas back to the reality of the falling snow, the woman in gold, Corrin, sitting beside him, and blood pouring out at the wound through his stomach. Yet, even as death calls to him, too early for someone so young as him, Silas feels no resentment or anger.

 “No,” Silas says, coughing against the dryness of his throat. “Men go to desperate measures when pushed. I don’t regret it.”

 Even as he says the words, Silas can feel the tears suddenly trailing down his cheeks. Corrin wipes them away just as quickly, and even smiles at him when Silas tries to laugh away the sadness clutching at his chest. He doesn’t relive the life he has had like the legends state men in their final moments usually do, but instead is succumbed to the notion that he has forgotten something important. Something vital. _Something_.

 “I know you,” he whispers when she moves to cup one side of his face. Corrin’s thumb lightly rubs his cheek. “I _know_ you. _Please._ ” When Corrin draws her hand back, Silas lets out a broken sob. “You said you know me, but I don’t know you. But I feel like I do. _Why?_ ”

 Silas doesn’t breathe as Corrin lowers her face so that she’s hovering over him. Her hair drapes over her shoulders and onto his chest. He can’t move (it’s been like that for a while now), but his brain supplies him with the feeling and images of soft, golden feathers and a majestic bird. A _phoenix_.

  _He sees the bird before any of the other men do._

_It’s perched itself in the middle of the clearing, its wings tightly tucked into its sides. The sunlight reflects off its large form enough that Silas can see its gold-colored body. Too big to be a bird, he decides when he knocks an arrow into his bow, pulling the string taut._

_Silas’s breath catches when the creature’s head immediately snaps in his direction. Its eyes are a beautiful shade of gray, so full of wonder and intelligence._

_“Beautiful,” he says before he can stop himself._

_“It’s this week’s meal.” One of the hunters has shifted his position so that he’s now standing beside Silas. “You taking the shot?”_

_“No, and neither are any of you.” Silas returns his arrow to the pouch slung across his back. “It’s not any kind of bird I’ve ever seen. For all we know, it could be a creature of the Old. Even Fae. We leave it and find our dinner elsewhere.”_

_“But sir, we couldn’t possibly…”_

_The hunters shut their mouths and allow their complaints to die along with the wind with the glare Silas sends their way. He nods at them to disperse. They all reluctantly find somewhere else to be to look for animals to kill._

_When Silas turns his head, the creature is cocking its head, narrowing its eyes at him hesitantly. Coming out of the trees, Silas begins to take one step at a time, slowly approaching it with a friendly, outstretched hand. The creature doesn’t seem frightened by him as he comes closer, but also doesn’t shift to close the gap between them either._

_Then, Silas halts with two feet in front, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Without so much as a breath, he yanks the bow from his back and fires an arrow behind him. The arrow hits its mark with great accuracy, and one of the hunters in his party crumbles to the ground, his own bow discarded on the ground beside him._

Idiot, stupid, fool, _Silas thinks reproachfully, looking at the body with a wince. This is going to cost him, but the man also disobeyed his orders. The others will not take this lightly._

  _Feeling a presence behind him, Silas turns, only to realize that the creature is right in front of him, its wings spread out. The wings span the entirety of the clearing, nearly blocking out the sun’s rays. Silas gapes up at it, full of appreciation, until the creature lowers its head, its beak pressing softly against Silas’s nose._

Phoenix. _The word resonates through him with much affection. Silas slowly lifts his hand to pat the Phoenix’s head. Its gold feathers are so soft, so warm, and so inviting that he can’t help himself when he begins to grin._

_“You’re welcome,” Silas says, running his fingers once more through the Phoenix’s feathers._

 The tugging on that invisible thread in his mind becomes a sort of tether into that seemingly forgotten memory. It’s like he’s seeing everything and then nothing at all until—

 “You were the one I saved,” Silas murmurs, eyes becoming wide. “You’re the phoenix.”

 Corrin smiles, brushing away the melted snow on his face. “Your initial thought was correct. I am Fae, and the phoenix is just my Other form.” She then laughs, causing Silas’s heart to pound every so delicately faster. “You saved me from the hunters that day. Twice — once when said you wouldn’t kill me, and the second when you murdered for me. I never got to thank you. Instead—” Placing her palm firmly against his forehead, she whispers, “—I made you forget. I hoped to allow you some peace during these last few moments, but I couldn’t stay away. And I got you killed. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

 “No, don’t blame yourself. You didn’t pierce me with a sword. You didn’t shove me off a cliff. This isn’t your fault.”

 “But—”

 “ _It isn’t_.”

 Silas meets Corrin’s eyes. It’s the color of ash — so beautiful. Always. _Always._ And before where he saw the rage she harbored on his behalf, he now sees sadness and unshed tears. Silas decides he’s never experiences anything more beautiful than in this moment, looking at this Fae woman who is so distraught at seeing a human stranger die.

 “Thank you.”

 And in this moment, full of great wanting and quiet regret, Silas finds the strength to take Corrin’s hand. She squeezes it, bringing it up to her face. Her eyes never leave his even as Silas takes his last breath.

  _I wanted to have known you better than this._

 _‘You will. In another time, another place, as two different individuals, we will find each other again,’_ the voice in his head promises.

 

★

 

**_Within the confines,_ **

**_Of this human skin,_ **

**_I shall await your command._ **

**_♫_** ( _I see your heart_ by The Second Moon)

 

★

 

Corrin despises the taste of blood. More specifically, _human_ blood. It’s tangy and feels as if she has been drinking a glass of melted copper. Disgusting. Revolting. Especially when Corrin is about to sink her teeth into their veins — the fear mixed in with something already so foul repels her more than anything.

 Until _he_ came into her life.

 “I want to make a contract,” the boy before her says. His eyebrows are knitted together, back straight, short hair sticking up in places she never thought possible, looking serious and comforting all at once. “I want to give you my blood in exchange for your power.”

 It’s only been a week since the boy had invited Corrin into his home, claiming that a homeless, single woman shouldn’t be out on the streets. Little did he know that she had actually been prowling the alleyways for food — rats and stray cats, mostly — her throat dry and craving the thick, red liquid of blood. The boy had taken her directly to his apartment complex and she had never felt the need to leave since.

 A small incident with a kitchen knife, however, had her spilling her darkest secret and, even then, the boy has never said a single thing about her ultimately extended stay at his apartment (or the fact that she nearly sucked his finger dry that day).

 Corrin stares at him for a long moment, a potato chip halfway to her mouth before stuffing it back into the bag and huffing.

 “You _do_ realize that you are trying to bargain with a _vampire_ right, Silas?”

 Silas gives her one of his signature crooked smiles before taking a seat beside her on the floor of his living room. “I think I’d be a great partner.”

 When Corrin continues to just stare, Silas’s smile grows wider. “The deal comes with room and board… Not to mention endless supply of free food.”

 “You’ll be dead within the week,” Corrin refutes.

 “Even so.” Silas smiles, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Take the bargain, Corrin.”

  _What is this human thinking?_ The question continues to echo in her mind as she stands up off the floor. She waits for Silas to follow before saying, “You’re insane. Absolutely crazy. You are going to die.”

 “Everybody has their time.” He laughs at her when she scrunches up her face in distaste. “I don’t know how it is with vampires, but humans already know they will die at any time. If I die because of this, then it was meant to be.”

 “You believe in fate?” Corrin asks.

 “I do.”

 Corrin stares at his outstretched hand for some time, unmoving. Her eyes flitter from Silas’s face back down to his hand before she says, “I do too.”

 When this human — this _Silas_ — dies, perhaps Corrin, too, will cease to exist in this world. For in this moment when he takes her hand in his, smiling down at her like she’s the stars and he’s the night ready to welcome and wrap around her with a promise of never letting go, she wants to believe that this is where she always will be.

 “I don’t know you really,” Silas says as an afterthought, brown eyes bright. “But I feel like I do. I mean, I would like to.”

 “You are so dramatic it hurts,” she mutters, laughing.

 But even so, Corrin squeezes his hand and steps into his embrace.

 

**★**

 

**_Dancing in the firelight,_ **

**_Across the sea and through the night,_ **

**_Please forever be with me._ **

♫ ( _Because it hurts everyday [inst.]_ by Gilgu Bonggu)

 

★

 

 The wind is a quiet storm gently tugging at Corrin’s hair. The full moon reflects off the body of water to create a secret path along the sea. She follows it as far as she’s able along the shores of the beach. There isn’t anything else to do except listen to the quiet waves, but Corrin still manages to get lost in her own thoughts.

 “I see the princess has no qualms when it comes to breaking curfew to escape the safehouse in the middle of the night.”

 The voice makes her jump nearly out of her skin. Corrin spins around to find none other than Silas, her trusted retainer, coming towards her. She can tell he’s holding back a laugh by the way he purses his lips together and the way he runs his fingers through his hair.

 “Yes, and it looks like my retainer doesn’t have such qualms either,” Corrin teases.

 Silas comes to stand beside her and they both look out towards the vast sea. It’s only been a few days since Corrin had left the capitol of Hoshido to visit one of the neighboring towns. As one of its princesses, she wanted to be able to see what the war is doing to their kingdom. Silas, of course, has been glued to her side ever since they left the castle, never being outside of grabbing distance of her.

 “I beg to differ. It’s only because _you_ are here that I _have_ to be here,” Silas chastises her. Corrin rolls her eyes, childishly sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention back towards the sea.

 “What do you see?” she asks.

 “A princess whose rest is long overdue,” he replies without missing a beat.

 “No.” Corrin shakes her head, pointing out towards the vastness of the waters. “Not me. Out there. What do you see?”

 Silas looks at the direction she is pointing before coming closer to her side and whispering, “Peace. A place without war of distruction.”

 

 “Exactly. The war between Hoshido and Nohr will be long,” Corrin says before grabbing both of Silas’s hands and gripping them tightly, staring up at him underneath the moonlit skies. “It’ll be a long journey to work towards the peace we all desire… Especially with the current king of Nohr. However, I have my eyes set on the first prince. I think he obtains the ability to change everything. But the process could take years, and you’d be out fighting a senseless war the entire time.

 “Then, wait for me,” Silas says, a whisper of a smile on his lips. “If you wait long enough, things will work out in the end. So, wait, please. _Wait for me_.”

 “But—”

 “No.” Silas presses a quick kiss against Corrin’s forehead before shaking his head. “Just you and me, Cor. I will _always_ be on your side, so don’t go looking elsewhere. I’m the one for you.”

 “I’m yours,” Corrin says, and the smile she receives in return is worth every distance that will be between them. “And no matter what happens, I’m _yours_ too.”

 And with that, Silas kisses her.

 

**★**

 

 It takes no more than a month after his departure before Corrin receives the letter. The thick, vanilla envelope stamped with the Nohr crest makes her see nothing but red, and, in her blind rage, she vows her revenge.

 There is no remorse when she, at last, gets her meeting with Prince Xander of Nohr and sets fire upon the his kingdom and him along with it.

 

**★**

 

**_Take my hand,_ **

**_Into the trenches of war,_ **

**_Through the pain and despair,_ **

**_To a new future,_ **

**_For both me and you._ **

♫ ( _Light of Seven_ by Ramin Djawadi)

 

**★**

 

 The three scars running along the entirety of his backside burn as Silas pulls back the reins on his horse. It’s been seven years since King Garon had him banished from the Nohrian Royal Tower, but sometimes Silas still has that ache that envelops his entire back, reminding him of exactly just what he is willing to risk to see the only person who has ever loved _happy_.

 Silas takes a moment to visualize her face. What she looked like when she _was_ happy. He hasn’t seen her in years, but even when he had been, she had rarely ever shown him that smile of hers – the one that would make his world just a little brighter, even in the midst of endless rage, fear, and hate.

 The war between Hoshido and Nohr seems to be reaching its peak in the last few months. With the death of Hoshido’s queen, there is nothing left to stop King Garon from advancing onto Hoshido’s borders.

 Nothing except a small army the Hoshido royals have gathered anyway. The army that Silas has heard so much about. The one that has a beautiful princess tuning into a _dragon_.

 So when Silas had been assigned the task of leading his own army to eliminate the threat of this army playing “hero” as King Garon had stated to him, Silas just _knew_. He even knows now, what he had known since he was _five_ and this amazing girl had come into his life, that it didn’t matter what stood between them – he would always, _always_ choose her above all else.

 As his men begin to fall around him, the second their eyes lock, Silas knows it’s her.

 “Corrin.”

 Her name is said in a gasp, but he knows she hears him by the tears that start streaming down her cheeks. Silas drops his lance just in time to catch her as Corrin jumps into his arms. The world around him slows, but such clarity begins to come into his life, something he hasn’t had for a long time. As if everything finally snaps into place.

 “Silas.” Corrin sobs his name, whispering it over and over in his ear like a prayer.

 And suddenly, everything is righted _at last._

 

**★**

 

 “I’ve waited long enough.”

 

 

**END.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> **i'm baaaaacckkk.....**


End file.
